Part 10 (1/2)

Things which these same Christian people In their law hold quite established.

Thus it is my life is troubled, Lost in doubts, emeshed, and tangled.

If to freedom I restore him, I have little doubt that, darkened By the Christian treachery, he Will declare himself instanter Openly a Christian, which Would to me be such a scandal, That my blood henceforth were tainted, And my n.o.ble name were branded.

If I leave him here in prison, So excessive is his sadness, So extreme his melancholy, That I fear 't will end in madness.

In a word, I hold, my nephew, Hold it as a certain axiom, That these dark magician Christians Keep him bound by their enchantments; Who through hatred of my house, And my office to disparage, Now revenge themselves on me Through my only son Chrysanthus.

Tell me, then, what shall I do; But before you give the answer Which your subtle wit may dictate, I would with your own eyes have thee See him first, you 'll then know better What my urgent need demandeth.

Come, he 's not far off, his quarter Is adjoining this apartment; When you see him, I am certain You will think it a disaster Far less evil he should die, Than that in this cruel manner He should outrage his own blood, And my bright escutcheon blacken.

[He opens a door, and Chrysanthus is seen seated in a chair, with his hands and feet in irons.]

CLAUDIUS.

Thus to see my friend, o'erwhelms me With a grief I cannot master.

POLEMIUS.

Stay, do not approach him nearer; For I would not he remarked thee, I would save him the disgrace Of being seen by thee thus shackled.

CLAUDIUS.

What his misery may dictate We can hear, nor yet attract him.

CHRYSANTHUS.

Was ever human fate so strange as mine?

Were unmatched wishes ever mated so?

Is it not enough to feel one form of woe, Without being forced 'neath opposite forms to pine?

A triune G.o.d's mysterious power divine, From heaven I ask for life, that I may know, From heaven I ask for death, life's grisly foe, A fair one's favour in my heart to shrine: But how can death and life so well agree, That I can ask of heaven to end their strife, And grant them both in pitying love to me?

Yet I will ask, though both with risks are rife, Neither shall hinder me, for heaven must be The arbiter of death as well as life.

POLEMIUS.

See now if I spoke the truth.

CLAUDIUS.

I am utterly distracted. (The door closes.

POLEMIUS.

Lest perhaps he should perceive us, Let us move a little further.

Now advise me how to act, Since you see the grief that racks me.

CLAUDIUS.

Though it savours of presumption To white hairs like yours, to hazard Words of council, yet at times Even a young man may impart them: Well-proportioned punishment Grave defects oft counteracteth.

But when carried to extremes, It but irritates and hardens.

Any instrument of music Of this truth is an example.

Lightly touched, it breathes but sweetness, Discord, when 't is roughly handled.

'T is not well to send an arrow To such heights, that in discharging The strong tension breaks the bowstring, Or the bow itself is fractured.

These two simple ill.u.s.trations Are sufficiently adapted To my purpose, of advising Means of cure both mild and ample.

You must take a middle course, All extremes must be abandoned.

Gentle but judicious treatment Is the method for Chrysanthus.

For severer methods end in Disappointment and disaster.

Take him, then, from out his prison, Leave him free, unchecked, untrammelled, For the danger is an infant Without strength to hurt or harm him.

Be it that those wretched Christians Have bewitched him, disenchant him, Since you have the power; for Nature With such careful forethought acteth, That an antidotal herb She for every poison planteth.

And if, finally, your wish Is that he this fatal sadness Should forget, and wholly change it To a happier state and gladder, Get him married: for remember Nothing is so well adapted To restrain discursive fancies As the care and the attachment Centered in a wife and children; Taking care that in this matter Mere convenience should not weigh More than his own taste and fancy: Let him choose his wife himself.

Pleased in that, to rove or ramble Then will be beyond his power, Even were he so attracted, For a happy married lover Thinks of naught except his rapture.